


Darling, It Is No Joke, This Is Lycanthropy

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Coitus Interruptus, Come Marking, Daryl Dixon Has a Dog, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Healing Cuddles, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Puppy Love, Scent Marking, Sex Toys, Stupid Ideas, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Well... a wolf., human!rick, minor head injury, werewolf!Daryl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: A series of drabbles revolving around human!Rick and werewolf!Daryl.Brief summary of each chapter:1. Humans don't have tails, Rick, it's ridiculous.2. Nests and how comfy they are.3. After a case-gone-wrong Daryl has to take care of his mate.4. Daryl gets a puppy. And it's no ordinary puppy. It's a wolf.5. Be careful what you say.6. Rick's bad luck put him on bed rest... or was it Daryl?





	1. Of Tails and Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> So... for a long time I was thinking about starting a series where I could write all those small happy moments between our favorite couple. 
> 
> Today MermaidSheenaz gave me an idea involving a tailed butt plug and we brainstormed it... And here we are, the first drabble from the series. Some of them will be humorous, some will be fluffy. All of them will revolve around Rick and Daryl, and their life together. 
> 
> MermaidSheenaz will be in charge of betaing all of them, probably, just like she did with the first one <3 
> 
> If you have any ideas or would like to see something specific, let me know! I can't promise I'll fit all ideas into this series, but I can assure you I will have a blast trying :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Of Tails and Wolves

 

Rick settled on his knees on their king-size bed, shuffling around a bit to get comfortable. He had heard Daryl entering their house a minute ago, and he couldn’t stop the shiver of excited anticipation that ran down his spine.

_His werewolf was back home._

He had bought a gift for Daryl, something small to celebrate their six months of being officially together, officially _mated_. It wasn’t like it was an important date, but Rick liked to make Daryl smile, and he hoped his idea will end not only in smiles, but also in some crazy hot tumble in the sheets.

A little over a month earlier, Rick had stumbled on a porn site on the internet. He rarely browsed those, mostly because his boyfriend was wild enough to keep them both entertained on every evening. That one movie, though… Let’s just say it _inspired_ Rick. And so, on the next day, he had created an account on an online sex-shop site and made a purchase.

And of course, he had fucked that up. Rick knew he was useless with technology, so he hoped Daryl would forgive him this one time. The package that had arrived was still good, after all.

It was a plug.

It had a _tail_ attached.

Rick wasn’t even sure why the idea of it appealed to him so much, but thinking about Daryl’s wolf form made him think about how he himself would look like with a tail. He had ordered a long, black, very fluffy tail, with a decently sized plug at the end… he must have misclicked, because the tail that had arrived was shorter... and thinner.

_And orangey-red._

But, because Rick had never been one to get discouraged easily, he had decided to use it anyway. Opening himself up was a quick work, and Rick was actually glad the plug had turned out to be smaller than he had previously thought - it had brought the fussing down to the bare minimum.

And now he was here, on all fours on their bed, the plug inside his ass, the tail hanging from it and tickling Rick’s balls whenever he moved. The fur was soft - softer than Daryl’s - but it still made him shiver whenever it brushed against his thighs. He took a deep breath and willed himself to relax, knowing Daryl would look for him soon. It was their unwritten rule to always check the other upon returning home. Actually, it was Daryl who had started doing this at the very beginning of their relationship - something about wolf packs and instincts and all that. Rick had fallen into this habit soon after, joining Daryl in the mutual searches and assurances.

Sure enough, Rick heard soft footsteps on the floor just outside the bedroom. They paused near the door as Daryl hesitated, and Rick smiled. Daryl had always been very considerate about Rick’s after-work naps - he would open the door soundlessly and peek inside, making sure his mate was alright, before he wandered to the kitchen to make them some dinner.

This time, though, when Daryl opened the door, Rick glanced over his shoulder, and met Daryl’s gaze with a grin.

“What?” Daryl breathed out, pushing the door to the side with one arm. He stood in the entrance, feet rooted to the spot, mouth falling open. Rick stretched his hands above his head, arched his spine, and wriggled his butt in the air. The tail brushed against his skin again and he couldn’t deny that the tickling sensation was arousing enough to make him half-hard.

Daryl just stood there - he couldn’t really comprehend what he was seeing.

Rick was kneeling on the bed… No. _No._ A _naked_ Rick was kneeling on the bed and shaking his ass in the air enticingly. Those fuzzy, pale cheeks were as juicy as Georgia peaches, and they never failed to make Daryl feel suddenly hungry. He was ready to jump forward and bite into them, when his brain registered something… _odd._

There was a piece of dead fur dangling sadly between Rick’s legs.

_There was a piece of dead fur dangling sadly between Rick’s legs._

Daryl blinked, then blinked again, but the image in front of him stayed as it was.  
“Rick?” Daryl asked, throat barely working. He stepped forward slowly, eyeing the strange addition to his mate’s gorgeous butt, eyebrows raising when he saw that one end of the orangey fur disappeared in Rick’s hole.

_It looked as if someone had shoved a dead squirrel right up Rick’s ass._

The last realization was the last straw for Daryl. He doubled over and a mad laughter escaped him. This _thing_ looked so ridiculous Daryl couldn’t _breathe_ properly. Every time his eyes went back to Rick’s ass, that sad piece of dead _something_ only brought more crazy, hiccuping noises out of him.

Just when he thought that he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and would possibly pass out from the lack of oxygen in his lungs, Rick moved and his behind disappeared from view.  
“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, turning around, confusion written all over his features, and Daryl felt bad for laughing at him like that. Surely, Rick had a good reason to shove a badly dyed carcass up his butt, right?

“The hell’s this?” Daryl asked, waving his hand at Rick’s ass.  
“It’s a tail?” Rick said it like it was a question. Daryl couldn’t help himself, he barked out a quiet laugh again, his hands shooting to his stomach when he felt a twinge of pain. _God, even his muscles had enough of this…_  
“A tail?” He prompted, biting his lip and trying not to let his tears fall. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard.  
“A _wolf’s_ tail.” Rick huffed out indignantly and sat back on his heels. Daryl let his eyes travel down.

Rick’s cock was completely soft, hanging between his thighs, and underneath it, a very fiery tip of that absurd tail was peeking out. Daryl choked down on another bout of laughter, and it came out sounding like a hiccup. Rick scoffed.  
“I bought it on the net. It was supposed to be -”  
“Idiotic?” Daryl interrupted, smirking.  
_“Black.”_ Rick finished, scowling at him.

“Rick… ‘s a bunny tail,” Daryl reached out, making as if he wanted to grab the orange tip, but Rick closed his legs and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“It’s not a bunny tail!” He said, voice petulant. “I’ve seen bunny tails in Playboy. They’re round and white,” Rick said, looking to the side, his face the picture of stubbornness.  
“‘s _rabbit fur,_ Rick,” Daryl explained, rolling his eyes. “An’, ‘s pretty badly dyed… there ain’t no rabbits _or_ wolves lookin’ like they’ve been set on fire. T’is? T’is is an abomination,” Daryl went on, smirking when Rick just kept on staring at the wall.

“Why’d ya do it, anyway?” Daryl asked, and Rick sighed, finally tearing his eyes away from the wall. But he didn’t look at Daryl, like the werewolf expected. Instead, Rick’s gaze went down to his knees.  
“I just wanted to do something nice for you… You know. With you being a wolf and all…” Rick muttered quietly.  
“What? Ya think I wantcha with a tail?” Daryl asked. He had everything he wanted in Rick already. To be honest, he had a lot more than he could ever dream about. Why the hell would Rick even think about something so preposterous?

“I watched a video…” Rick muttered quietly, and Daryl frowned.  
“A video?”  
“You know… _porn,”_ Rick clarified.  
“Man… I musta been doin’ it wrong if ya need porn,” Daryl grinned and moved forward, climbing on the bed. Rick leaned back when he got closer, but Daryl just kept crawling towards him, and soon, he had Rick underneath him, knees bracketing Daryl’s hips.

Daryl reached with one hand and grabbed the end of the ridiculous tail. He turned his hand and wrapped the length of the fur around his fingers, before he tugged at it slowly. Rick gasped when the plug slipped out of him. Daryl looked at it, one eyebrow raised. It was small… a lot smaller than the vibrator he used sometimes to drive Rick mad. Shrugging, Daryl threw the tail away, not really caring where it landed. He would have thrown it through the window, but it was the middle of the winter right now, and the windows were all closed. He looked back at Rick, taking in his shocked expression.

“What?” Daryl asked, frowning.  
“That thing cost me thirty bucks,” Rick said, sounding scandalized.  
“Overpriced. Got the real deal fer ya,” Daryl growled the words out and shifted closer, rubbing his clothed dick against Rick’s hipbone. He dove down and captured Rick’s mouth in a sweet kiss, muffling Rick’s impatient groan when his hands fumbled with Daryl’s belt.

 

-&-

 

Later, when their world stopped spinning and their heartbeats got back to their normal rhythm, Daryl convinced Rick to show him the porn video which started that whole stupidity.

His choking laughter had been the definite end to the topic of Rick having a tail.


	2. Cuddle up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick comes back after a week-long training. When Daryl is nowhere to be found, Rick ventures to their bedroom... and he's in for a surprise.

Cuddle Up!

 

Rick hadn’t been gone long enough to pack all his shit up - he had only taken a small suitcase with him. He was holding it now, standing in his house, looking at  a suspiciously clean living room. It was unnerving, to be honest \- he was almost sure that a week before, when he had been leaving for the training, he had left it in a state of absolute mess. Last time he had stood here, there had been his clothes strewn around everywhere. 

And Daryl wasn’t one to clean up after him. 

Which was fine with Rick, he wasn’t obsessed with cleaning either. He had had enough of that after living with Lori \- come hell or high water, the whole house had to be cleaned on Saturdays. It had been of no consequence, whether he had just finished a night shift or had been feeling ill. With Daryl it was a lot easier - if the mess got too bad, they would pick up the worst of it and be happy about the effect. 

It didn’t explain the surprising lack of Rick’s clothes that had been littering the space just before he had left. 

Curious, Rick left his suitcase in the living room and went to investigate. He walked through the quiet house, checking the kitchen and then the bathroom. It was almost one in the morning, and he was pretty sure Daryl had had a long shift in the garage earlier that day, so the chances of encountering him anywhere outside their bedroom were small… Better safe than sorry, though - Rick didn’t want to overlook his werewolf by accident. 

When his perfunctory check out had brought no Daryl-shaped people, Rick directed his steps to the last place his mate could possibly be. 

He walked quietly, or as quietly as anyone having a boyfriend with an inhuman hearing could. He had even toed off his cowboy boots somewhere near the bathroom and had left them there. The house was so quiet he could actually hear his heartbeat, and Rick wondered briefly, if he would be able to hear Daryl’s from afar for once. Or maybe a soft snore? 

Rick smiled to himself and opened the door, stepping inside on light feet. 

The little lamp on the nightstand was on, and Daryl was awake. 

Daryl was awake and sprawled on his stomach, face pushed into Rick’s shirt, one eye gazing up at him over the blue material. Rick was ready to open his mouth in greeting, when his brain caught up on the rest of the setting. 

His clothes were all over the bed - his  _ missing _ clothes, the ones that were supposed to be in the living room. They were bunched up into odd shapes, too - his jeans balled up on the side, his t-shirts spread and wrinkled as if someone had fisted their hands in them. There were his boxers and his socks peeking out from different creases and folds of the dark comforter they had… 

And amidst of it all was Daryl, his shaggy hair an absolute mess, the one eye staring at Rick reddened and tired, arms splayed loosely right next to his head.    
“Rick,” Daryl’s voice was muffled by the fabric, and he finally raised his head, his other eye blinking open blearily. Rick grinned, then walked closer.    
“Honey, I’m home!” He chuckled when Daryl groaned, smashing his head back into the sheets. Rick knew just how much his mate hated being sappy, and he liked to tease him on occasion. 

As soon as Rick was within an arm’s reach, Daryl’s hand shot to the side and fisted in the uniform shirt he was wearing. Daryl pulled him on the bed, rolling over to make some space. Rick followed without a fight, laughing when he took in the mess of clothes from up close. 

_ It was possible that half of his wardrobe ended up around Daryl.  _

“Did you miss me?” Rick asked, still grinning. Daryl just scoffed and went to unbutton his shirt. He made a quick work of it, before he pushed Rick down to make him lie back. If Rick had expected some kind of a welcome home sex, he was wrong. What Daryl did instead, was to wrap his arms around Rick’s waist and push his face into his abdomen.

“Hey,” Rick started, brushing his fingers through Daryl’s hair. “Everything’s okay?” He asked, breathing a small sigh of relief when Daryl nodded.    
“Missed ya,” the werewolf mumbled, the hot puff of air fanning over Rick’s skin.    
“That’s why the nest, huh?” Rick mused, scratching his nails gently down Daryl’s neck.  The arms around him tensed briefly, and then, Daryl leaned back. He looked around - his face a picture of surprise - and frowned. It was almost as if he had just realized that he had buried himself under an avalanche Rick’s clothes. 

“‘s not a nest,” Daryl muttered, before he plopped down next to Rick and burrowed himself into Rick’s side.    
“Right. What is it, then?”   
“What’s  _ what?” _ Daryl asked, his words getting lost somewhere near Rick’s ribs.    
“What’s all that? My clothes on the bed and you rolling around in them?”    
“‘m not rolling ‘round in ‘em,” Daryl growled. He leaned back and narrowed his eyes at Rick.    
“You want to tell me it’s completely normal?” Rick asked with a grin. Daryl just scoffed. He turned around and curled up on his side, his back to Rick. 

“Yeah, ‘s completely normal,” he gruffed and pushed his face into the nearest shirt.    
“Mhm,” Rick hummed. He switched off the lamp and turned to his side, too. He shifted closer and wrapped one arm around Daryl’s waist, ignoring another quiet growl his action provoked. 

“I like it, you know?” Rick murmured, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the nape of Daryl’s neck. “You making a nest of my clothes… I could use one, too, when you’re pulling long shifts and I have to sleep here all alone,” Rick said, closing his eyes. He was tired - the training had simply been too long. 

Rick didn’t even know when he had drifted off. The next thing he knew, he was being woken up from a nightmare by soft, shushing whispers in his ear. Nowadays, he only had nightmares when he was exhausted - it was almost as if they were waiting for his brain to be tired enough to let them slip by. 

Apparently, today was one of those days. Rick was only happy that his werewolf loved him too much to sulk over his nest. They must have rolled over during the night - Daryl was now pressed against Rick’s back, one hand wrapped tightly around Rick’s chest.   
“Yer okay, Rick.” Daryl’s voice was a low murmur right behind him, and Rick nodded, just to let him know that he was awake.    
“Did I wake you?” Rick asked, reaching back with one hand and threading his fingers through Daryl’s hair blindly. There was a huff of air fanning warmly against his shoulder, before Daryl replied.    
“Couldn’t sleep, anyway.” 

Rick frowned, but then his gaze drifted to the window. It was the full moon - Daryl was always a bit too _hyper_ during a full moon. It still warmed Rick’s heart that he had stayed and kept watch over him, though, instead of going to the garage and working on his bike. Rick sighed and rubbed his palm over the arm holding him.   
“I’m sorry for laughing at your nest,” he whispered quietly.  
“‘s not a _nest.”_ Daryl groaned behind him and Rick smiled. He interlaced their fingers and pressed a bit closer to the muscled chest behind him.   
“Okay,” he muttered, letting his eyes fall shut once again. 

On the next morning, they pushed the clothes off the bed and made the covers smell like the both of them. Rick decided that he liked it a lot more than his dirty shirts. 

Daryl agreed. 


	3. Drown your sorrows. In me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does a werewolf do when his mate comes back home smelling of blood and anxiety?

Drown your sorrows. In me. 

 

Daryl knew something was wrong as soon as Rick walked through the threshold. His steps were lacking their usual spring, his hips weren’t swaying like they normally did, and his back was hunched in a weird way.

Daryl dragged his wolf body from the couch and went over to the corridor, eyeing a very exhausted-looking Rick. His mate locked the door behind him mechanically - a series of movements that were so well-trained that he could do them half dead if he had to. When he turned to Daryl, the wolf had a sickening feeling that something in Rick had indeed died today.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked when he shifted back to his human form, walking closer to Rick and enveloping him in a warm hug. He didn’t really care that he was butt-naked - he could smell the anxiety in Rick’s scent, mixing with a heavy tang of blood that lingered around him like a nightmare, and that was _not okay_. “Ya hurt?” He asked, splaying his hands protectively on Rick’s back. He didn’t smell an awful lot of blood and Rick was still standing there on his own, so Daryl figured if he had been injured, it couldn’t have been too serious.

Rick shook his head after a moment.  
“No, I’m fine, just a few scratches,” Rick mumbled. He sighed and let his head drop to Daryl’s shoulder, turning his face into Daryl’s neck and taking a few steadying breaths.

“Wanna eat something?” Daryl asked, when it became apparent that Rick would not be talking anymore. But, his mate just shook his head slightly, the rustle of his overgrown stubble loud in the quietness around them.  
“We still got that whiskey?” Rick’s voice was raspy, and Daryl could tell he was choking down on anything that tried to claw its way out of his throat. He nodded.  
“Yeah. I’ll get it.” He waited until Rick leaned back, before he withdrew. Daryl left Rick to take off his boots and get settled in the living room, while he tugged on some sweatpants and retrieved the whiskey from the kitchen cabinet. He took two tumblers for it and threw some ice inside.

When he walked into the living room, tumblers in one hand and the whiskey bottle in another, he found Rick standing just a few steps from their couch, the heels of his hands pressed firmly to his eyes.

Without a word, Daryl set the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table, and opened the couch, stretching it until it doubled its size. Then, he moved around quickly and collected all the cushions and blankets he could find - a truly monstrous amount when one was a werewolf. When he was done throwing them all on the couch, he turned back to Rick, placed his hand gently on Rick’s arm and tugged him forward carefully. Rick stumbled forward as if he was drunk already, regaining his composure only for long enough to fall gracelessly on the bed and crawl back, until he could lean against the cushions. Daryl went after him, giving him one of the glasses and pouring the whiskey for both of them.

It took two throat-burning gulps for Rick’s hands to start shaking. Daryl laid back against the cushions and tugged him closer, happy that Rick’s arms went to his waist automatically, even if they squeezed the living shit out of him. He didn’t ask what had happened. He knew that Rick would talk when he was ready. Sure enough, three more sips and a sigh, and Rick was opening his mouth, his voice low and unsteady.  
“Two kids and their mother,” Rick mumbled into Daryl’s chest. An exhale stuttered out of him, a little breathy whine that made Daryl’s heart break a little. “A guy shot them. We didn’t know he had a gun. He was waving a knife around, so Shane went and took it from him. Got nicked on the shoulder…” Rick trailed off, gulping down the rest of his whiskey. Daryl poured him another two fingers.

“Shane stepped back, a kid ran in, the guy grabbed her… it went downhill from there. He got the knife against the kid’s throat… walked back into the yard. He disappeared behind the fence. We… we tried to talk to him…” Rick looked down, one hand traveling to Daryl’s leg, picking at a loose thread in the sweatpants. “Didn’t work.” Rick muttered.  
“Ya didn’t know ‘bout the gun, Rick,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around Rick’s shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze.  
“She… the mother,” Rick swallowed convulsively, blinking rapidly. “She looked like Lori,” Rick whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his face into Daryl’s neck.

“It wasn’t her.” Daryl felt the need to state that. He new that Rick had a love-hate relationship with his ex-wife, but she had been with him for ten years of his life. Daryl knew that seeing someone who looked like her getting violently killed couldn’t be easy to stomach.  
“I know, I just… And _the kids…”_ Rick trailed off, shaking his head. He leaned back and drank the whiskey in two quick gulps. Daryl followed, draining his glass, too.

By the time they had emptied the bottle, Rick was crying silently into Daryl’s shoulder, tears falling on Daryl’s skin and trickling down. He wasn’t as stoned as Rick was - his wolfish biology burned the alcohol almost as soon as he consumed it. He had drank the same amount as Rick had, but he barely felt it. Rick, on the other hand, was a mess. He was also getting heavier against Daryl’s side, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him.

Daryl extracted himself gently from Rick’s embrace, ignoring the small whimper he had gotten in turn.  
“Shh… jus’ gonna get us some water, alright?” He soothed, helping Rick stretch out on his side. He walked quickly to the kitchen, grabbed two bottles of Evian, and wandered back. He didn’t know why Rick insisted on drinking bottled water when their tap was working perfectly fine, but then again, he guessed that Rick didn’t have the same wolfish biology as him, and he had to watch more carefully what he was putting inside of him.

When he got back to the living room, Rick was half-asleep already. He cracked his eyes open just a fraction, tired blues gazing up at Daryl from beneath wet eyelashes.  
“Daryl?” Rick mumbled quietly. Daryl just nodded and crawled next to him. He made a quick work of Rick’s uniform trousers and shirt, leaving him in a soft, white tee and a navy-blue pair of boxers. He tugged a blanket over his mate and settled down next to him. Rick curled up against him almost immediately, one arm sneaking around Daryl’s chest to hold him close, as if he was afraid Daryl would disappear.  
“Sleep,” Daryl whispered, leaning in and placing a small kiss on the top of Rick’s head. Rick muttered something in reply, but it got lost somewhere between the exhaustion and the alcohol he had consumed.

 

-&-

 

In the morning, Rick looked even more exhausted than he had the previous evening. He had woken up twice during the night - once to drink the water, once to throw it all up. Daryl reckoned it was good, getting the alcohol out of Rick’s system meant he wouldn’t be too hungover later. It proved to be true, too, for the first thing Rick did after waking up, was to go and have a shower.

After what felt like a whole day, but was probably closer to half an hour, Rick emerged and crawled back into bed. He smelled of his shower gel, his curls were still wet and his eyes were half-closed before his head had even hit the pillow. He grumbled something out and curled up under the covers, letting Daryl spoon up behind him.

It was still pretty early, so Daryl reckoned a bit more sleep wouldn’t be bad. He knew that Rick had his day off today, and even if he hadn’t, the department usually gave them some time off the clock after a shitstorm like that. Daryl snuggled up to Rick and let his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

 

-&-

 

“Mornin’,” Daryl gruffed out somewhere behind him, and Rick turned around with a small groan.  
“Hey,” he greeted, trying to blink the sleep away. “What’s this?” Rick asked, nodding at a steaming plate Daryl was holding. It was loaded with roasted ribs and vegetables, and it smelled wonderful when Daryl handed it over to him. Rick stared at the food for a moment, before he grabbed the offered fork and started to eat.

“Daryl?” He asked around a mouthful of meat.  
“Hmm?” The werewolf settled down next to him with his own plate.  
“Did you make dinner for breakfast?”  
“Made dinner fer _dinner,”_ Daryl mumbled, chewing on a juicy rib. “Ya weren’t hungry yesterday,” he shrugged, and Rick frowned.

Sure, Daryl was usually the one to cook between the two of them, but he didn’t often go for roasted ribs. According to Daryl, they were _too much hassle and not meaty enough._ He only made ribs when Rick was invol…

_Oh god._

“Did you make ribs because I’ve been complaining about us not having proper dates?” Rick asked, his dinner-turned-breakfast forgotten for the moment. Daryl shrugged again, but he nodded after a few seconds. Rick’s mouth fell open.

He had been joking at the time. It had been a _joke_ \- Rick knew that werewolves didn’t really do dates, and he was A-okay with it. But Daryl still went and made him a whole dinner…  
“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked. Rick realized that he must have been staring at him for the last minute or so.  
“You… made me ribs.”  
“Yeah?” Daryl side-eyed him, his gaze shifting between Rick’s stunned face and his own plate.

Rick put his dish on the coffee table carefully, then turned to Daryl and looked at him expectantly. Daryl’s frown deepened, but he set his plate aside, too. He wanted to ask Rick what was wrong, again, but he didn’t get that chance. Before he could even open his mouth, Rick was crawling to him, _over him,_ settling into Daryl’s lap and kissing him with a single-minded intent. The kiss quickly turned frantic, and Daryl pulled away with a quiet moan when he felt Rick’s hands slipping beneath the sweatpants he was still wearing.

“Slow down,” Daryl rasped, turning them around and grabbing Rick’s hands. He dove down for another kiss, silencing Rick’s protest at taking it slower. “Been waitin’ fer this since yesterday,” Daryl murmured, leaving little bites on Rick’s neck.  
“God,” Rick sighed out, his back arching. “I’m sorry it went south yesterday,” he whispered. Daryl leaned back to look at him.  
“‘s okay… ya better now?” He asked, one hand traveling down Rick’s side.  
“Yeah,” Rick nodded, pushing Daryl’s sweatpants down over the curve of his ass. “Make me forget.”

Daryl did - after he flipped Rick around on his hands and knees, Rick could barely remember his own name. In the end, they ate their dinner for lunch.


	4. Ball of Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... I thought about Daryl bringing home a wolf pup. Talked about it with Sheenaz, and she said that there were only two fics I could fit that in. This is one of them and fuck, but is it fluffy and tooth-rotting sweet. Enjoy some Sunday fluff, everyone! <3

Rick was stretched out in a lawn chair, slowly gaining some tan in the sun. He had a newspaper in hand, a cool beer right next to his leg, and was definitely enjoying his late Sunday morning. That was, until his peace and quiet had been disturbed by Daryl.

Rick frowned, lowering the paper and gazing at the line of the forest. He had seen a movement out of the corner of his eyes and now, when he actually focused his gaze on the spot, he could make out Daryl’s silhouette - big paws thumping on the ground as the wolf marched forward, his head held low and the tail high up. Rick was thinking about getting back to the paper, when a tiny detail caught his attention - _Daryl had something in his mouth…_ a _furry_ something.

Frowning, Rick kept on staring, waiting until Daryl was within the earshot.   
“Did you catch another rabbit?” Rick asked, huffing out a laugh. “We already have a fridge full of them!”

Daryl just scoffed at that - _if wolves could scoff_ \- and walked on, stopping only when he was a few feet away from Rick. He placed the dirty ball of fur on the grass then sat down, his beautiful, wolfish eyes shifting between Rick and… _whatever that was._ Rick’s frown deepened and he got up, intent on getting closer to it, when the dirty ball of fur _moved._

Rick sat back down on his chair, mouth opening.

Was it _alive?_ Daryl didn't really bring back live game… Transfixed, Rick watched as the fur ball crawled on the grass, turning around clumsily, tiny ears and a thin tail shaking with each movement.

_He stomped down the urge to grab a stick and poke it._

It looked like a puppy. A very dirty, very _miserable_ puppy. Rick’s eyebrows raised up, almost to his hairline. What the hell…? Was this _a wolf?_ And why did Daryl bring it here? Was it… oh god, was it _his?_

“Daryl… What the fuck is this?” Rick asked, waving his hand at the ball of fur. “Is this your bastard child or something?” Just the thought of Daryl having a kid on the side, _with a wolf,_ made him cringe. His marriage had ended because of such bullshit and he’d rather there were no repeat performances - god only knew how many werewolves were running around these woods.

The wolf _scoffed_ again, then shifted, and in a blink of an eye, Daryl turned back into his human form.   
“‘Nuff gossip magazines for ya,” he gruffed out, picking up the puppy and walking to the house, side-stepping Rick on his way. Seeing the angry glare in Daryl’s eye, Rick bit his lip to stop a laugh from escaping - Daryl looked absolutely ridiculous with his glare still present and carrying a dirty ball of fur while being buck naked.

 

-&-

 

About an hour later, Rick felt bad enough for his initial reaction to Daryl bringing the puppy that he actually dragged his ass off the chair and into the house. The picture that greeted him stopped him in his tracks as soon as he walked into the living room.

Daryl was sitting on the couch, holding a kitchen rag in one hand and gently brushing his fingers over the pup’s fur. It was decidedly cleaner now, probably bathed by Daryl sometime during that hour, and was now resting on his knees on… _Rick’s blanket._ As he watched, Daryl dipped the corner of the rag in a bowl that was standing on the coffee table, then brought it to the pup’s mouth, prompting it to open it and suck with a small whine. When Daryl started to coo to it softly, Rick’s head started to swim.

_He had never heard Daryl do that._

Stepping slowly, just loud enough that Daryl would hear his approach, Rick walked over and sat down next to him, careful no to interrupt. Daryl shot him a glance, but quickly went back to the task at hand, gently feeding the little creature.   
“Sorry for being a dick out there,” Rick muttered, gazing down. The pup opened its mouth and dove forward, only to miss the offered corner of the rug.

“‘S okay,” Daryl shrugged. “Guess I surprised ya, huh?”   
“Where did you find it anyway?” Rick asked, genuinely curious.   
“Down the stream,” Daryl said, dipping the rag in the bowl again.   
“And where’s the momma?”   
“Dead.”

Rick’s eyes shot up, mouth opening in shock. But Daryl just sat there, gaze focused on the little wolf, patiently feeding him. There was something infinitely sad about him that made Rick’s insides tighten.   
“Found ‘er on the other side of the stream… shot by the poachers.” Daryl shrugged, but Rick could tell it was just a facade. His boyfriend had lost his own mother in a fire when he had still been a kid, and Rick knew that the topic was very touchy.   
“Poor babe,” Rick said instead, reaching out with one hand. “Can I?” He asked at the last second, not really familiar with whatever chapter in wolf etiquette pups belonged to. Daryl nodded, taking the rag away.

When Rick’s fingers touched the soft fur, the pup shifted, pushing its head up and into Rick’s hand, giving a small whine. Then it wriggled closer, crawling across Daryl’s lap to get to Rick. He smiled, petting it gently, glancing up at his lover.   
“So… we’re gonna keep it?” He asked, noticing how Daryl bit his lip.   
“Couldn’t leave it out there… Was gonna starve to death,” Daryl answered after a few seconds, voice low. Rick frowned, looking back at the pup. It started to lick at his pinky, before it tried to bite it. Rick chuckled.

It was a good thing it didn’t have teeth yet.

“Is that a werewolf or…”  
“'S just a wolf, Rick.”  
“Alright.” Rick nodded, grinning when the pup gnawed on his finger. He ducked his head a little. “You’re staying. You can have the blanket, too,” he said, eyeing the blue fabric. It was his favorite, but if it could keep the tiny creature comfortable, he was willing to share. That thought made him frown though - they had a different blanket, much more fluffy than this one.

“Why not the yellow blanket? It’s bigger and all…” he asked Daryl, who shrugged.   
“Wanted it to have yer scent, too. In case… ya know, in case ya didn’t like it too much…”

Rick’s eyes widened. He felt like kicking himself. _Hard._   
“Hey,” he prompted, waiting for Daryl to look at him, before he continued. “I’m so sorry for being a dick out there,” he said again. “You know how my marriage with Lo… you know how that ended, right?” Daryl nodded, so Rick went on. “The pup stays, okay? Besides, I like it already,” Rick smiled, glancing down at the ball of fur that was currently doing its best to settle down comfortably in Daryl’s lap and Rick’s hand at the same time.

Seeing a small smile appearing on Daryl’s face, Rick couldn’t help himself, and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend. They broke apart only after the pup yipped at them.   
“Okay, let’s feed ya some more, huh?” Daryl’s voice was as gruffy as always, but there was something in it that melted Rick’s heart and brain... and half of his insides, probably. He stuck out his hand, silently asking Daryl to give him the rag.

After dipping it in the bowl again, Daryl did, eyes shining happily.


	5. Shaggy-Dog's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Rick is woken up from his afternoon nap, he thinks he's in heaven. Too bad the nice surprise fried his brain a bit too quickly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo we've been talking with Sheenaz about what Daryl would do if Rick called him a good boy... 
> 
> One must never call Daryl a good boy.

“Oh god, _Daryl!”_ Rick’s voice sounded broken, his hands gripping the sheets and getting white-knuckled from the strain. Daryl hummed, then lowered his head a bit more, letting another inch of Rick’s cock slip inside his mouth. “Jesus _fuck,_ you’re gonna kill me…” Rick mumbled out, letting his head fall back, closing his eyes.

He had been taking an early afternoon nap - sprawled on the bed with his jeans and the t-shirt still on. Daryl had snuck up on him, woken him up with gentle but insistent kisses, and then he had undone Rick’s trousers and taken a dive.

Rick was in heaven. There was something about Daryl being all wolfish when the full moon was coming, the instincts leading him on, whispering to his ears about mating and claiming. Rick was A-okay with that, and he let his approval be known. _Loudly._   
“Oh fuck!” He groaned out, his hips shifting when Daryl ran his tongue on the underside of his cock, setting the sensitive nerve endings on fire. Rick had gotten so hard it had made him dizzy, and the haze was still there, settling over his brain like thick cotton.

Daryl hummed, lips still wrapped firmly around his cock, before he tugged Rick’s trousers down a bit and let one of his hands slide lower, between Rick’s thighs and to his hole. He rubbed the opening for a few moments, tearing a loud whine from Rick.   
_“Christ!”_ The hitch in Rick’s breathing only made Daryl want to fuck him. Rick must have had the same thing on his mind, because he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Daryl with his half-hooded eyes.

“Daryl? Dare… Please?” He asked, licking his lips when Daryl pulled off of his cock.   
“Yeah, yeah.” The werewolf huffed out, reaching under the pillow in search for the bottle of lube they had left there the night before. He retrieved it after a few seconds, squirted some on his finger, then brought it back to Rick’s ass. He pushed in slowly, savoring the tightness and the heat of his mate, biting his lip when the finger went in smoothly.

Rick moaned above him, hips rocking, begging for more. There was a blush high on his cheeks, and Daryl couldn’t help but think how sexy he looked like that, all hot and bothered, still asking for more. He moved the finger in and out a few times, feeling Rick’s muscles relaxing.   
“Fuck… give me another!” His mate demanded, and Daryl hesitated. Rick wasn’t stretched enough for two yet… not really.

But, a moment later, a little needy whimper shook itself loose from Rick’s throat, and Daryl’s brain fried. He dove down, taking Rick’s length into his mouth again in an attempt at distracting him, then brought his second finger to Rick’s opening.   
“Yes… do it!” Rick breathed out, and Daryl didn’t wait any longer. Sucking on Rick’s cock, _humming around it,_ he pushed the second finger in beside the first. Rick hissed, then threw his head back.   
“Yes…. good boy!”

 

-&-

 

Rick was so shocked at the sudden change of proceedings, he was sure he was going to have a heart attack. One second Daryl was sucking on his cock and fucking him into oblivion with his fingers, the next he was left empty and cold, with Daryl pulling off of his length so fast it actually _hurt._   
“What the fuck?” Rick asked, blinking at his lover, trying not to cringe.   
“Yeah, Rick,” Daryl growled, looking at him with narrowed eyes. _“What the fuck?”_ He seethed, then climbed out of bed, grabbing his sweatpants and tugging them on.   
“Daryl?” Rick asked, confused. He tried to sit up, but both, his cock _and_ his ass reminded him that it was a bad idea.

“I ain’t yer _good boy,”_ Daryl gruffed out, finally pulling the pants over his ass. _What?_   
“You serious right now?” Rick asked, his mouth falling open when he saw Daryl reaching for the door knob. “Daryl!”   
“Ya wanna _good boy?_ Go to _Shane,”_ Daryl threw over his shoulder, then stormed out.

Rick winced when the door closed behind him with a bang.

 

-&-

 

It took Rick ten minutes to shake off the numbness of shock and crawl out of bed. His erection had lost all interest by then, and it was easier to tuck himself in. Cursing silently, Rick walked out of the bedroom and through the house, looking for Daryl. When his search brought up no werewolves, Rick ventured out on the porch at the back of the house. It was a small platform, half-surrounded by bushes, overlooking their spacious and overgrown backyard.

Thankfully, Daryl was there.

He was sitting on the edge of the porch, legs planted on the steps, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging around him. Rick winced, seeing another furious inhale, before he walked forward, eyes glued to Daryl’s naked back. _Oh how he wanted to run his hand down that back, kiss every scar, and bite into every muscle_ _…_   
“I ain’t a dog,” Daryl muttered, blowing out the smoke. Rick nodded stupidly, then stepped closer.   
“I know that.”

He seated himself next to Daryl, propped his elbows on his knees, then sighed.   
“I’m sorry,” Rick mumbled, not really knowing what to say. He heard a low chuckle coming from Daryl, but there was no amusement in it. “Why is it such a big - ” Rick started, but Daryl interrupted him.   
“‘S humiliatin’,” he gruffed, side-eyeing Rick. There was something dangerous in his eyes, that kind of carefully contained wilderness which Daryl seemed to possess. Rick shivered, then licked his lips. _Daryl was definitely sexy like this._

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said it…” Rick looked down, bringing his hands together and fidgeting with his fingers.   
“Jus’... don’ say it ‘gain,” Daryl shrugged, taking another drag of his cigarette. “I’m a _wolf,_ not a _dog,_ Rick. I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”   
“I know, I know,” Rick murmured, nodding. He could actually feel Daryl’s gaze slipping over him, before the werewolf nodded with a quiet huff. Rick took it for a good sign and turned to the side. He leaned in and placed a small kiss on Daryl’s bare shoulder.

They fell quiet, Daryl smoking his cigarette and Rick looking at the garden, until something else came to his mind. He knew that Daryl might get a bit territorial with the full moon coming, but it wasn’t as if he had done anything with Shane in years… Actually, they hadn’t done anything since their academy days. They had been great friends, then Shane had fucked his wife and the friendship was broken, so now they were just working in the same station, no relationship involved.

“Why Shane?” Rick asked, and Daryl rolled his eyes.   
“Ya kiddin’ me?” He mumbled, taking one last inhale, before he stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. “He was all over ya.”   
“What? When?” Rick blinked at him stupidly, frowning.   
“Back when ya were best buddies. He’s still like that sometimes, ya know? All big puppy eyes and ready to please…” Daryl gruffed out, smirking. Rick scoffed.   
“No. We were just friends.”   
“Yeah. An’ now yer actin’ civilized for the sake of yer job. I get it. But he still has that look like he’s waitin’ fer ya to say _fetch_ an’ he would.”

Rick thought it over, biting his lip.  
“No. He’s just… I guess he feels guilty for destroying my marriage…”   
“Not that he did any better,” Daryl muttered sarcastically, and Rick winced. Lori had left Shane a few months after she had left Rick. In a way, he even felt a bit sorry for Shane… _just a little bit, though._   
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I got the _good_ end of the deal,” Rick whispered, leaning in and kissing Daryl’s shoulder again. His boyfriend scoffed.   
“Watch it. One more _good boy_ and ya’ll be drinkin’ in a bar with Shane,” Daryl gruffed out, squinting at him.

Rick ignored him in favor of kissing that well-built shoulder. There was something decadent in dragging his tongue across the corded muscles, knowing that he could suck and bite on them, and that Daryl would probably only give him a grunt of approval in return.   
“Alright, no good boys… what about _sweethearts?”_ Rick asked, running his tongue over the warm skin. He could see the shiver that went through Daryl, and the werewolf grumbled something quietly. “Hm?” Rick prompted.   
“‘S fine.” Daryl said, voice low.   
“Okay… _Honey?”_   
“Only when ya come back home and shout it at me.” Daryl nodded, smirking. “Yer a right dork, ya know that?”   
“I can live with that,” Rick shrugged indignantly, but there was a happy spark in his eyes.

He moved closer to Daryl, pressing himself against Daryl’s side, before he decided that he didn’t like the position. He shuffled around, until he was sitting behind his werewolf, both legs bracketing Daryl’s hips.   
“The fuck are ya doin’ now?” Daryl asked, twisting his head around to look at him.   
“Getting comfortable,” Rick answered, wrapping his hands around Daryl’s middle and tugging him back. With an exasperated huff, Daryl went down, resting against Rick’s chest. “That’s better,” Rick said, splaying his fingers widely on Daryl’s stomach. “Let’s see… What about _darling?”_

Daryl went quiet for a moment, thinking about it.   
“Nah, not really. But ya _can_ name the pup like that,” he said. Rick raised an eyebrow.   
“I thought you didn’t want to name it.”   
“And you _did.”_ Daryl mumbled, shrugging.   
“Right. So _Darling_ is taken…” Rick mused aloud, his hands slowly inching down, the very tips of his fingers rubbing along the waistband of Daryl’s sweatpants. “What about _sugar?”_

Daryl let out a gasp and arched back, but Rick wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to what he said or to his own fingertips dancing over Daryl’s bare abdomen.   
“Hmmm… Sugar?” Rick whispered, lowering his head to his boyfriend’s shoulder and kissing it slowly, licking over the skin again.   
“Wha...? Ah, no. Sugar’s _out,”_ Daryl huffed, grabbing one of Rick’s hands and dragging it lower, pushing it inside his pants. Rick smiled, then started to suck on Daryl’s neck, while he found Daryl’s cock and wrapped his hand around it.

It was still half-hard after their messed-up blow job earlier, and Rick had no troubles bringing it to full hardness. He moved his fist slowly, ending each stroke with a little twist which soon started to raise Daryl’s hips off the porch. Rick smiled, then moved his lips to Daryl’s ear, licking slowly around the shell, before he blew on it.   
“Fuck…” Daryl breathed out, his whole body bowing back.   
_“Love?”_   
“Rick… I don’t give a _fuck!”_ He practically moaned the last word out, biting his lip when Rick bit his ear.

It didn’t really take long - a couple of faster moves, a few obscenities whispered right into his ear, and Daryl was coming in his sweats, arching against Rick’s chest, trashing in his arms as his mate held him close. Rick continued to jerk him off until he fell back down against him, boneless and panting.   
“I guess that leaves us with _sweetheart_ and _love,”_ Rick smirked, looking down at his sticky hand. Daryl hummed, then twisted around. Before Rick could do anything, Daryl grabbed his hand and messily, _hungrily_ , licked all the come off of his fingers, making sure to catch every last drop. The way Rick’s breath hitched at that made the wolf part of Daryl growl in pleasure, and he leaned up, taking Rick’s mouth in a deep and sensual kiss.   
“Let’s find yer _sugars,_ huh?” Daryl whispered, one hand going to Rick’s belt.

Later, it turned out that _love_ made Rick jerk in his grasp, but _sweetheart_ caused him to come in his pants with a wild moan. Daryl filed that knowledge away for later, adding it to all the things he knew drove Rick wild. He was definitely going to use them the next time he woke his mate up from his afternoon nap.  


	6. Perfectly fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a demonstration-gone-wrong, Daryl has to take care of his injured, human boyfriend.

“If the shit goes down…”    
“Rick -”    
_ “If the shit goes down, _ get out of there, okay?” Rick eyed him sternly, his  _ don’t fuck with me _ expression firmly on. Daryl sighed.    
“‘M not even sure if ‘m going there, Rick.” He shook his head dejectedly, pulling on his leather vest. Rick sent him another look, then went to put on his uniform. 

There was going to be a demonstration today, and Rick knew that he would be called in - King County only had so many officers, so it didn’t matter whether they were riot police or not, all hands were needed. The demonstrations within their city were usually peaceful, the people knew their place and all the work could be done by their regular units… 

Rick had a feeling that today was going to be different, though. Today the demonstration against Trump was going to clash with Trump’s supporters, as evidenced by their twitter messages and facebook group chats. 

_ Rick really wasn’t looking forward to this.  _

Especially not when he had heard that Daryl wanted to go there, too. It was good that his boyfriend was at least going to stand on the right side of this - holding the anti-Trump movement’s place - but it was still concerning. Even if Daryl was a werewolf.  _ A bullet to the head was still a bullet to the head, after all. _ And guns were everywh -

“Quit lookin’ so worried,” Daryl’s gruffy voice sounded next to him, and Rick scoffed.    
“I can’t just turn it off, you know?”    
“‘M gonna stay out of trouble, ‘kay? ‘M not even sure if Tara wants to go there or not, we may end up browsin’ twitter and passing the info.” Daryl shrugged, and Rick sent him a skeptical look.    
“Just… watch your back, okay?”    
“You too,  _ officer,” _ Daryl growled, leaning in for a quick kiss.

He later stepped back and let Rick get ready for work in peace, trying to bite back his own worries.  _ Stay out of trouble… _ look who’s talking. Daryl gritted his teeth and relocated to the living room, smiling when Darling jumped on the couch and took the place right next to him. The pup was getting larger every day, and soon it would have troubles fitting on the couch next to him. 

Smiling fondly, Daryl rubbed his hand all over the wolf’s abdomen, then took out his cellphone and went to text Tara. 

 

-&-

 

The first two hours of the protest went by peacefully. There were a few harsher words flying this way or that, but in general, there weren’t any attempts at breaking anybody’s noses. Rick felt almost like smiling - he knew he couldn’t let his guard down, not even now, but it looked like all his worrying had been for nothing. He looked to the side, catching Michonne’s eye, nodding to her. She nodded back, flashed him a smile, and Rick did the same, finally relaxing a bit. 

Of course, that was the precise moment when everything went to  _ shit.  _

 

-&-

 

Daryl and Tara had finally ended up going to the demonstration. They arrived shortly after collecting their mutual friend Jesus, who showed up with a handful of white roses. Seeing Daryl’s surprised stare, he explained that the flowers were to show their peacefulness and good intentions. Grumpily, Daryl took the offered flower and, after counting to ten in his head, followed them to the place of the demonstration. 

_ Damn hippies. _

The protesters were already there, shouting their statements, waving the flags and showing their banners to everyone interested in reading them. They didn’t look too hostile, even the ones on the other side of the street - somehow the groups ended up divided by the stretch of the black tarmac and Daryl felt more at ease with that setting. Coming closer behind everyone else, Daryl and his friends kept to their side and stood there, not doing much and being rather passive, holding up the roses high above their heads. 

The first two hours were rather calm… until one of the dickheads on the Trump supporter’s side decided to end it with a badly aimed bottle thrown at the others. 

_ All hell broke loose after that.  _

Daryl couldn’t believe just how fast it had all happened. One second they were singing something about being happy, the next, there were stones and bottles flying in the air, with some of the protesters getting into each other’s faces. When it started to come to blows, there was a shift somewhere next to them, and suddenly, the whole expanse of the unofficial  _ no man’s land _ was swarmed with the police. 

Daryl’s heart made a wild flip when he recognized a very characteristic gait between numerous men dressed in black and holding shields. 

_ Rick. _

He was a bit to the side, in the third or fourth row, Daryl couldn’t really tell. But he was there, and Daryl grabbed Jesus and Tara, and dragged them behind the nearest corner.    
“Hey!” His friends protested in unison, but one hard glare from Daryl stopped their oncoming bitching.    
“Shut it. We had our fun, now it’s time to stand back,” he growled, scowling at Tara.    
“Daryl, we’re quite far, and we’re not doing anything stupid,” Jesus tried. “I’m sure that, if we just stand there and do what the police says, we’ll be fine.”    
“Fuck that,” Daryl gruffed out, cutting Jesus short. “Ya do whatcha want, I ain’t goin’ in there.” He pointed at the crowd moving nearby. He didn’t feel the need to add that he didn’t want to make Rick and his friends’ work harder than it already was. 

A bottle swished over his head out of nowhere, then smashed against the nearest wall, raining down in shards. Daryl threw a perfunctory look over his shoulder, then faced Jesus and Tara again. To their credit, they did look a bit shocked seeing the shattered glass.    
“Go back there or go home, don’t care,” Daryl said, moving past them. “Got other things to do.” And with that, he was gone, only one thing on his mind:  _ find Rick.  _

The wolf inside him was howling with the need to get close to his mate, telling him that something was  _ wrong. _

 

-&-

 

“Fall back! Fall back!” Morgan shouted, backing up a few steps, waiting for the others to join him. Rick walked up to him, adjusting his shield.    
“We gotta move to the right!” He screamed over the loud voices of the protesters. There were rocks flying over their heads, and even if they were a bit further away from the front line, he still ducked for cover when a beer bottle got dangerously close. 

They were supposed to back the riot police up, keep the sidelines clear and not get injured. Rick was still working on the last part, ducking behind his shield every now and then, happy to have the helmet strapped to his head. 

“Move forward on my mark!” Abe shouted to his right, and Rick grabbed his baton tighter. He waited for the signal, watching the protesters with weary eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… they had been demonstrating peacefully, and then, in a blink of an eye, it all turned into a full-blown riot. 

“Move!” Abe shouted, waiting a beat, before he started to walk forward. Rick winced, then took a deep breath.

_ One step.  _

_ Two steps.  _

_ Three steps. _

The officers to his right broke their line. 

_ Four steps.  _

The gap got bigger. Rick sped up. 

_ Five steps.  _

_ Six steps.  _

“Move back!” Abe shouted. Rick looked to the side, noticing that they were all passing a narrow street. There was a woman with a kid sitting under a wall, a nasty-looking guy leaning over them, a broken bottle in hand. 

_ Seven steps.  _

_ Eight steps.  _

Rick went there, just a bit to the side, just two or three yards. He quickened his walk, breaking into a run at the last moment, barreling into the guy and using his body weight to throw him off-balance. The man stumbled back, eyes wide, then moved away a couple of steps. Rick was ready to turn and take a good look at the woman with the kid, when something hit his helmet. He heard a crunch, then lost his balance suddenly, falling to his knees when the world around him blurred a bit. 

There was a moment of white stars and dark spots flying before his eyes, and then Rick glanced up, struggling to at least stay on his knees and not fall face-first on the tarmac. 

_ There were people in front of him. One of them had a gun, another a length of pipe.  _

Rick raised his shield to cover himself as the people stepped closer, all maniacal eyes and feral grins. 

_ There was growling behind Rick. He would have recognized that growl everywhere.  _

A glimpse of a big, furry beast was the last thing he could see, before he tumbled into darkness. 

 

-&-

 

“Ya scared the shit outta me.”    
“Dare?”   
“‘S okay, ‘m here.” 

Rick opened his eyes, blinking blearily at the light glaring right into his face. He groaned, then tried to turn his head to the side, only to find out that he couldn’t really move.    
“Don’t do that,” Daryl rasped out next to him, and Rick finally focused enough to look at him properly.    
“What happened?” He mumbled out, frowning when he took in Daryl’s worried face.    
“Ya got hit with a brick. Yer helmet broke, ya lost consciousness...  _ Jesus, Rick… _ ” Daryl’s eyes were suspiciously shiny, a bit blurry, and Rick reached out with one hand and groped around to grab Daryl’s. He smiled weakly when a set of strong, rough fingers wrapped around his immediately, squeezing hard enough to stop his blood from flowing. 

“I’m okay,” he tried, fighting the urge to wince when his head started hurting as if on cue.    
“‘Course ya are. Yer in the hospital, and they’re gonna make sure yer damn fine before they let ya go home,” Daryl muttered, maintaining his death grip on Rick’s hand. 

Patiently, they waited for the doctors to do all the tests they needed. 

 

-&-

 

“It’s just a  _ concussion, _ Daryl, I’m not  _ dying,” _ Rick moaned, flat out refusing Daryl carrying him from their car to their house. Daryl had half a mind to ignore that and sweep him up anyway. He resisted, but only because Rick still had his gun belt on, having recovered it after he had been signed out of the hospital. 

After four hours of prodding and poking, after two CT scans and one X-ray, he had been declared healthy but concussed, and had been signed out to get better at home. 

_ Daryl almost hadn’t let him walk to their car waiting in the parking lot.  _

“Daryl,” Rick started, sitting down on their coach, his eyes following Daryl. The werewolf ignored him, getting busy with something in the kitchen. Darling walked into the living room, sniffing Rick curiously, and he pushed his hand into its fur absentmindedly. Daryl was almost buzzing with energy, something that was clearly visible even from Rick’s vantage point, and Rick wondered what had brought that on. He was  _ fine, _ he had a bit of a headache, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. 

“Daryl…” Rick tried again, frowning when he heard something fall and crash on the floor. There was a pretty heated curse and some crunching, and Darling took off to see what had just happened. After a bit of consideration, Rick followed the wolf, getting up slowly and walking to the kitchen quietly. 

Daryl was crouching on the floor, shakily picking up shards of broken glass. Rick went to him, absentmindedly noticing water starting to boil in the electric kettle on the counter.    
“Daryl…”    
“Don’t.” Daryl’s voice was all wrong, too quiet and infinitely too soft. Rick reached out to touch his shoulder, but before he could even get close enough, Daryl shot up and dropped the glass, then jumped to his feet and started pacing around. He looked like an angry, desperate ball of energy, and Rick didn’t really know what to do with him in that state. Every few seconds, there would be a snarl leaving him, his hands shifting briefly, growing claws and fur just for a few seconds, before they went back to their human form. Rick waited until Daryl paused, before he tried again, coming closer. This time, Daryl let him. 

“I’m fine,” Rick murmured, wrapping his arms around Daryl’s waist and pushing his face into Daryl’s neck. It took a few long moments but in the end, Daryl’s hands found their way to Rick’s shoulders, his fingers fisting in the fabric of Rick’s uniform, keeping them pressed together. 

“Ya coulda died,” the werewolf growled out, leaning his head forward, until his forehead touched Rick’s shoulder.    
“I didn’t,” Rick said quietly, turning just so and kissing just under Daryl’s ear. “Thank you, by the way,” he added on a whisper, sighing in contentment when he felt Daryl nuzzling against him.    
“Fer what?”    
“Don’t you try that with me. I saw you… heard that growl, too.” Daryl shrugged hearing that.    
“I had ta…”    
“I know… and now you have to fuss. I get that,” Rick soothed, rubbing slow circles on Daryl’s back. He felt rather than heard a small rumbling noise coming from his lover. 

They stood like that for a longer moment, listening to the water boiling in the kettle until it was done with a loud  _ ping. _ Reluctantly, Daryl leaned back, looking down between them, then shifting his gaze to the floor. Rick raised his eyebrows in confusion, before something clicked. He glanced at the floor where the remains of the glass were still clearly visible - thank god Darling had more sense than anyone gave it credit for having, and kept clear out of the mess. 

“Was makin’ tea…” Daryl started, but trailed off, raising one hand to his mouth and biting into his thumbnail.    
“You hate tea,” Rick countered, trying to fight a smile off his face.  _ Werewolves had to fuss. And if their mate was hurt they would do absolutely everything to keep them comfortable and safe. Even if it required willingly spending time in the kitchen preparing tea they hated, apparently. _   
“Ya like it.” Daryl shrugged, attempting to step away. Rick held him fast.    
“I don’t need  _ tea.” _ Rick put emphasis on the last part, hoping that Daryl would catch the bait.    
“What d’ya need?” He asked, looking up at Rick, his narrowed eyes searching Rick’s face intently. 

_ Hook and sinker.  _

“Take me to bed,” Rick murmured. He leaned back in and kissed Daryl softly, hoping to calm him down a bit. The werewolf frowned, pulling away to squint at Rick.    
“Yer hurt.”    
“We don’t have to do anything,” Rick went on, diving in for another quick peck. “Come on,  _ mate, _ take me to bed.” 

Something flashed in Daryl’s eyes, a there-and-gone glimmer, and without any further hesitation, he grabbed a hold of Rick, then swept him up into his arms. Rick giggled madly, but let himself be carried without complaint, tucking his face into Daryl’s neck and hiding his grin there. 

Once in their bedroom, Daryl laid him down carefully on the bed, making sure Rick was sprawled comfortably on the mattress, before he stepped away. Going around the room in circles, Daryl started to gather pillows, blankets and random pieces of attire, throwing everything on the bed. Some of the clothes landed on Rick, but they were ignored, up until Daryl decided that he was satisfied. Once done, he moved back to the bed, crawled over Rick and settled on his side. He pushed the items around, arranging them in a nest, and Rick was briefly struck by just how many pillows and blankets they owned. 

“Come ‘ere,” Daryl gruffed out finally, tugging Rick closer by his belt. He waited until Rick shuffled towards him, then unbuckled the gun belt slowly. Rick let him do whatever he wanted, and soon, Daryl was unbuttoning Rick’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. It smelled of gunpowder - no,  _ propellant,  _ Daryl’s brain told him - just like all Rick’s clothes did, and they needed to be gone for the evening. 

Once Rick was completely naked, lying next to him and shivering slightly in the chilly room, Daryl divested himself of his own clothes, then pulled a thick comforter over the both of them. It was heavy and big enough to cover their whole nest. Rick sighed, then snuggled closer, smiling slightly when Daryl wrapped himself around his body tightly.    
“I’m fine,” Rick reminded him, but Daryl just made a noncommittal noise and shifted behind him, both arms winding around Rick’s waist. 

The position they were in - Daryl’s chest to Rick’s back - allowed the werewolf to duck his head a little and press a few small kisses to Rick’s bare shoulder. He didn’t stop there, though - a few long minutes of lazily mouthing at Rick’s skin, and Daryl let his tongue out to play, too. He swept it down, then trailed it back up, following an invisible path to Rick’s neck. He pushed his nose behind Rick’s ear and inhaled, wincing a bit because Rick’s familiar scent still had traces of antiseptic lingering in it.    
“Ya smell like t’ hospital,” Daryl muttered, shifting a bit so that he could rub his neck over Rick’s head. Rick’s curls were soft and tickly, but it didn’t matter now - all Daryl wanted was for Rick to smell like himself again,  _ to smell like them both.  _

“Can take a shower, ya know?” Rick mumbled, arching his neck to give Daryl a better access. He knew what his lover was doing, it was something that had happened before. After Rick had gotten back from a particularly bloody case, or when he had been involved in a fire rescue, Daryl would come to him and rub his wolf scent all over Rick’s body. At first Rick had thought it strange, then the feeling had morphed into a curious sense of belonging, and he didn’t complain anymore. There was also the added benefit of Daryl calming himself down, and that was a big bonus when someone’s boyfriend was a giant, dangerous beast. He would never hurt Rick, but his bad mood was usually not a good news for anyone within a ten miles radius. 

“You can come with me, we shower and come back here, huh?” Rick asked again, smiling when Daryl tightened his hold on his waist with a low growl.    
“Yer not goin’ anywhere.” His voice was low, almost choked down, and Rick’s smile vanished. He frowned, one hand going to Daryl’s arms still wound securely around him.    
“I’m fine,” Rick reminded him again. “I’ve got a headache, but the doctor said it’s normal. You know that, you were there with me…”    
“Thought I lost ya,” Daryl murmured, so softly Rick almost missed it altogether. But it was there, and once Rick’s brain caught the meaning of the words, he shivered. 

“You didn’t. I’m here -”    
“I saw a  _ brick _ flyin’ at yer head, Rick. Ya fell down… Ya didn’t wake  _ up. _ I thought…”   
_ “Daryl.” _   
“Yer fuckin’ helmet  _ broke.  _ Thought I was gonna have to  _ bite ya,” _ Daryl choked out, pushing his face between Rick’s shoulder blades. He breathed in and out heavily, chest expanding behind Rick’s back, and for a moment, Rick could feel it shift and reshape, until Daryl reigned himself in. Rick frowned.    
“Don’t do that,” he whispered. “You don’t have to hide it from me, you know that.” 

Daryl’s hybrid form was a mix of human and wolf, his features shaped into a grotesque picture that Rick found as beautiful as they were unique. Daryl’s face always got all the alien angles that weren’t there normally, his skull changing and turning into that of a wild beast. Daryl’s body always got bigger like that, too, until he could easily tower over Rick when they were standing on an even ground. Daryl had tried to explain it once - something about the bones and how they were a lot denser when he was in his human form, about how they expanded to make up for the size of the wolf. Rick didn’t really get it, but he didn’t care - he loved Daryl in all forms, the wolf, the human, and everything in-between. 

And so, feeling that Daryl was still struggling to let his beast out, Rick turned around until they were facing each other. He tucked his fingers under Daryl’s chin and pushed, until Daryl turned his face up and looked at him.    
“Come on,” Rick prompted, leaning in to give Daryl a kiss. It was intended to be quick and reassuring, but Daryl’s hands traveled to Rick’s shoulders and kept him from withdrawing. Soon after, Daryl’s tongue found its way into Rick’s mouth, sliding in and stroking over his own hotly, coaxing it out to play. With a small moan, Rick joined him, his own palms rubbing up and down Daryl’s back. 

_ “Come on,” _ Rick murmured again, scratching his nails along Daryl’s spine, delighting in the shaky moan it earned him. Seemingly not able to fight his instincts any longer, Daryl growled, then climbed on top of Rick, pushing him down into the nest. With one fiery look, full of emotions far too great to decipher on the spot, Daryl shifted - his face changed, the features getting edged and elongated, teeth turning sharper and bigger. Within few seconds, Daryl’s whole appearance changed, from the very human redneck that he usually was, into a fearsome, half-shifted beast.

_ Rick couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.  _

There was something beautiful in this wild version of his lover, in the sparse fur covering his arms and chest, thickening at his back and at the nape of his neck. Rick pushed his fingers into the barely grown mane, combing the hair slowly, almost reverently. Daryl gave a rumble and shuffled over him, clawed hands digging into the pillow on both sides of Rick’s head.    
“R’ck,” Daryl growled out, his voice scratchy and low. Like this, half-shifted, his throat was barely functional, vocal chords slackened in preparation for all the wolfish howls and barks. The fact that he was still able to talk like this, even if barely, was the reason Daryl liked his hybrid form when they were together more than being fully shifted, though. He wasn’t really talkative on daily basis, but that was due to their ability to communicate with looks and expressions, rather than words. A wolf’s face had no expressions beyond happiness, sadness, and anger, and Daryl needed to use words in such moments. 

“Go on,” Rick said, nodding, skimming his fingers down Daryl’s shoulders, following the well-defined muscles there. They were even more prominent like this, stretched tight over overgrown bones, and Rick couldn’t help but trace them with his nails, scratching him just a bit. It made Daryl moan, a long, low, misshapen sound, which shot straight to Rick’s groin and set his insides on fire. He pawed at Daryl’s back, delighting in the way Daryl huffed and snarled above him, one clawed hand coming to rest on Rick’s hips, digging in hard enough to leave little indents on the delicate skin. 

Daryl lowered himself on top of him, not enough to squish him, but enough to make Rick feel his weight, then jerked forward, bringing their erections together firmly, rubbing against one another. The air around them went hot suddenly, a static sort of electricity crackling wherever they touched, sparking between them and making them dizzy with sensations. Rick had a brief moment of lucidity, just a few seconds when his brain cleared up enough to make him start some conscious action that turned out to be sucking his own fingers into his mouth, trying to make them wet. Daryl drew back from his neck which he had been licking insistently, eyes zeroing in on Rick’s lips stretched around two digits, before he gave a howl. Before Rick knew what was going on, Daryl had his hand yanked back and away from his mouth, clutched between claws, grasped securely and pushed into the pillow right next to his head. 

_ “No,” _ Daryl snarled out, teeth showing. His hips had never ceased their rutting, and Rick moaned when the wild look he had received mixed with the pleasure he was feeling from their rhythmic rocking. “Too far,” Daryl growled, and Rick nodded, letting Daryl get his other hand up, arching his back when he felt the steel-like talons encircling his wrist.  _ Daryl was too far gone already, so that meant no fucking.  _ But, it didn’t mean that Rick couldn’t do  _ something. _

With a tiny growl of his own, Rick wrapped his legs around Daryl’s waist and  _ squeezed, _ bucking up into him, grunting when his heels slipped down Daryl’s fur-covered backside and landed on the short, half-formed tail. He dug them in, shifting relentlessly, until Daryl was finally prompted into faster thrusts. 

It really didn’t take long after that, not with their precome and sweat slicking the way, not with all those huffs and growls that caused pleasure to trickle down their spines like liquid electricity. Within minutes, Rick was moaning loudly, his back bowing and muscles spasming, cock shooting come all over the both of them. Daryl lasted only a bit longer, scraping his teeth along Rick’s shoulder, then turning his head and biting the pillow right next to Rick’s neck. He would never bite Rick, would never  _ risk _ it, not for sex certainly, but there was something insanely arousing in the sound of torn linen that made Rick wish they were both werewolves. He didn’t really have time to dwell on that, though, because as soon as Daryl was done coming, adding to the hot, sticky mess between them, he collapsed on top of Rick, effectively trapping him against the bed. 

“Off!” Rick wheezed, pushing at Daryl’s side until the wolf - grumpily - shifted to lie next to him. Daryl’s arms never left Rick’s body and now, they encircled his waist, while one of Daryl’s legs found its way between Rick’s thighs, the short fur tickling his spent cock and making Rick huff out a tiny laugh.    
“Feel better now?” Rick asked, turning his head and looking at Daryl, taking in the mop of wild hair and the very wolfish ears that were sticking out of it. The torn pillowcase was in his line of vision, a bit of stuffing slipping out of it, and Rick smiled.  _ Was it weird to want your boyfriend to maul you?  _   
“A’most,” Daryl gruffed out, his voice low and scratchy. He brought one knee up, dragging it through the mess on Rick’s abdomen, then moved it down, smearing their combined come all the way to Rick’s balls. He gave a funny sort of bark at Rick’s scandalized inhale.    
“Now I  _ really _ need that shower…” Rick grumbled, attempting to get up. 

_ Daryl was faster.  _

He climbed back on top of him in a blink of an eye, getting on all fours and hovering over Rick, staring at him intently.    
“Yer n’t show’rin’,” he rasped, then ducked his head and proceeded to scent-mark all of Rick’s upper half. And if it caused Rick to giggle, which in turn brought back his headache, well… Daryl cuddled him better later, when they were freshly showered and back in bed, soaking in the smell of the both of them raising from dirtied sheets. 


End file.
